Emma handed me the letter, and I glanced at it. I could actually make out some of it. Incredible, I thought, that stuff like this survived three centuries. It occurred to me that maybe some other three-hundred-year-old document regarding the location of more of Kidd's treasure had led to the murder of two twentieth-century scientists.

I said to Emma, "I hope John Gardiner sent a letter back to Bellomont saying, 'What Kidd? What gold?'"

She smiled. "No, John, Gardiner wasn't about to cross the governor and the king. He duly carried the treasure to Boston himself."

"I'll bet you he kept some of it."

Emma pushed a piece of paper toward me and said, "That is a photostat of the original inventory of the treasure delivered by John Gardiner to Lord Bellomont. The original is in the Public Records Office in London."

I looked at the photostat of the original, which was ripped in places and totally indecipherable to me. I pushed it back to Emma. "Can you actually read that?"

"I can." She held the photostat up to the lamp and read, " 'Received the 17th July of Mr. John Gardiner-one bag dust gold, one bag coined gold and silver, one parcel dust gold, one bag three silver rings and sundry precious stones, one bag of unpolished stones, one parcel of crystal and bazer stone, two carnelian rings, two small agates, two amethysts all in the same bag, one bag silver buttons, one bag broken silver, two bags gold bars, and two bags silver bars. The whole of the gold abovementioned is eleven hundred and eleven ounces, Troy weight. The silver is two thousand, three hundred fifty-three ounces, the jewels and precious stones' weight are seventeen ounces…

Emma looked up from the inventory and said, "This is a good-sized treasure, but if you believe the Mogul's claim to the British government, then there was twenty times more gold and jewels still missing than had so far been recovered on Gardiners Island or seized on the San Antonio and in Kidd's Boston lodgings." She smiled at me and asked, "Okay, Detective, where is the rest of the loot, booty, and plunder?"

I smiled in return. "Okay… a third is still in the Caribbean."

"Yes. That treasure, which is well documented, disappeared and has spawned a hundred Caribbean legends to match the hundred legends here."

"Okay… also, the crew got their share before they all jumped ship."

"Yes, but the whole of the crew's share would not have been more than ten percent of the total treasure. That's the deal."

"Plus medical and dental benefits."

"Where's the rest of the treasure?"

"Well, we can assume John Gardiner skimmed a little."

"We might assume that."

"The lawyer, Emmot, got his, for sure."

She nodded.

"How much is left?"

She shrugged. "Who knows? Estimates range anywhere between five and ten million of today's dollars unaccounted for. But, as I said, the treasure, if found in situ, rotted chest and all, would be worth double or triple its intrinsic value if it were auctioned at Sotheby's." She added, "The treasure map alone, if it existed and if it was in Kidd's handwriting, would be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars at auction."

"How much do you get for the maps in the gift shop?"

"Four dollars."

"They're not authentic?"

She smiled and finished her tea.

I said, "We're assuming that Kidd buried treasure in one or more other locations as insurance, as a bargaining point to buy his freedom and keep himself from the gallows."

"That's always been the assumption. If he buried some treasure at Gardiners Island, then he probably buried some elsewhere for the same reason." She added, "Captain Kidd's Trees and Captain Kidd's Ledges."

I said to her, "I went to see Captain Kidd's Trees."

"Did you?"

"I think I found the place, but they're all cut down."

"Yes, there were still a few big oaks standing around the turn of the century. They're all gone now." She added, "People used to dig around the stumps."

I said, "You can still see some of the stumps."

Emma informed me, "In colonial times, digging for pirate treasure became such a national obsession that Ben Franklin wrote newspaper pieces against it. As late as the 1930s, people were still digging around here." She added, "The craze has almost entirely disappeared, but it's part of the local culture here, which is why I didn't want anyone in the Cutchogue Diner to hear us talking about buried treasure. Half the damned town would have been dug up by now." She grinned.

"Amazing." I asked Emma, "So Kidd's buried treasure was supposed to be his life insurance. Why didn't it save him from the gallows?"

"Because of a variety of misunderstandings, bad luck, vindictiveness. For one thing, no one in Boston or London believed Kidd could recover the loot in the Caribbean, and they were probably right. That was long gone. Also, you had the mogul's complaint and the political problem. Then Kidd himself was playing it cute. He was holding out for a full pardon from the king in exchange for turning over the plunder. But the king and the others may have felt that to protect the British East India Company they had to return the plunder to the Mogul so they had no interest in pardoning Kidd in exchange for the location of the loot. They would rather hang Kidd; which they did."

"Did Kidd say anything about the hidden treasure at his trial?"

"Nothing. There are transcripts of the trial, and you can see that Kidd realized he was going to be hanged no matter what he did or said. I think he accepted this and decided as a last act of spite to take any secrets he had to the grave with him."

"Or, he told his wife."

"That's a strong possibility. She had some money of her own, but she seemed to live quite well after her husband's death."

"They all do."

"No sexist remarks, please. Tell me what happened to the treasure."

I replied, "I don't have enough information. The clues are old. Yet, I would make the assumption that there was still some treasure buried somewhere."

"Do you think Kidd told his wife where all of it was?"

I reflected on this a moment, then replied, "Kidd knew that his wife could also be arrested, and she might be made to talk. So… I think at first he didn't tell her, but by the time he was in the slammer in Boston and was about to be shipped out to London, he probably gave her a few clues. Like that eight-digit number."

Emma nodded. "It's always been assumed that Sarah Kidd managed to recover some of the treasure. But I don't think Kidd would have told her where all of it was because if she were arrested and made to talk, then any slim chance that Kidd had of trading buried treasure for his life would have been lost." She added, "I really think he took the location of some buried treasure to the grave with him."

I said, "Did they torture Kidd?"

"No," she replied, "and people have always wondered why they didn't. In those days, they tortured people for much less reason." She added, "A lot of the Kidd story never made sense."

"If I'd been around, I'd have made sense of it all."

"If you had been around then, they'd have hanged you as a troublemaker."

"Be nice, Emma."

I processed all this information and played with it awhile. I again thought about Charles Wilson's detailed letter to his brother, and I asked Emma, "Do you think Kidd could recall from memory all the locations of where he'd buried his treasure? Is that possible?"

"Probably not." She added, "Bellomont did look for evidence of hidden treasure and recovered some papers from Kidd's Boston lodgings and from the San Antonio, but there were no maps or locations of buried treasure among the papers-or if there were, Bellomont kept it to himself. I should mention that Bellomont died before Kidd was hanged in London, so if Bellomont had any of Kidd's treasure maps, they may have disappeared on Bellomont's death." She said to me, "So, you see, John, there are lots of little clues and hints and inconsistencies. People who have an interest in this have been playing historical detective for centuries." She smiled at me and asked, "So, do you have it figured out?"